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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220927">Bliss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drafter/pseuds/Drafter'>Drafter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HxH Whump Stories [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, Headaches &amp; Migraines, Opium, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:15:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drafter/pseuds/Drafter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When an annoying headache evolved to a migraine, Kurapika found comfort in the shape of a pill.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HxH Whump Stories [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bliss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Whumptober prompt #26: Migraine</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started as a headache — no big deal. Probably a result of his lack of sleep with a tad of dehydration. Kurapika was functioning on caffeine alone: he could drink cups and cups of coffee all day, but often forgot about water. He didn’t mind the pain too much, though. He heard caffeine was actually a good painkiller, so he thought it would go away by itself. </p><p>But it didn’t.</p><p>After three days straight, the headache evolved into a migraine. The ache was so throbbing it made it hard to think. Or do anything else for that matter. And it probably showed, as, on the fourth day, he found a small amber, semi-transparent container on his desk at work. He grabbed it, analyzing its content.</p><p>“What is this?” he asked out loud to whoever was in the room.</p><p>“Codeine,” one of his associates from the Nostrade family answered. “It’s good for the pain.”</p><p>Kurapika nodded, looking at the pills. Small white round tablets, just like an aspirin. He stowed away in his pocket and tried not to think about it, even though the pain was now just too hard to ignore.</p><p>It was past lunchtime when he took the first one.</p><p>(…)</p><p>The small bottle of codeine had maybe thirty or so capsules in total, and Kurapika was sure it would last him a lifetime. He rarely took medicines. In his young years growing with the Kurta clan, he learned a handful of techniques and recipes that would cure anything. Or rather, <em>almost</em> anything, as they all failed to fix the one pain that caused him trouble.</p><p>His headache became a recurrent theme. He would wait for it to go away on its own, and when it didn’t, he resorted to the white pills. One was enough to give him a quick relief and get him back on his feet. After all, he couldn’t afford to waste time being unproductive. </p><p>A few months went by, and the occasional migraine became a weekly event. Suddenly, one tablet wasn’t enough. He started taking two at a time, and when the bottle ran dry, he asked his associate for a new one.</p><p>“Same dosage, boss?”</p><p>“Same thing. Or stronger,” Kurapika said.</p><p>The thing was that codeine also had a pleasant side effect. Besides getting rid of his pain, the capsules gave him a sense of relaxation, something he hadn’t experienced in a while. So he started taking them before going to bed, and it was amazing how much it helped him with his sleeping schedule.</p><p>Without him noticing, the second container was gone, and so was the third. He was now on his fourth bottle, taking the pills on a daily basis — pain or not. It became a habit. He would take one with his morning coffee, two after lunch, one more in the afternoon and the last one before bed. If pain came to bother him, he would double that. And just like that, the fourth flask was also almost at the end.</p><p>The problem was that now, the relaxation he felt in the first couple of months started to fade. The mild euphoria from before not only lasted very little, but also progressed to drowsiness, forcing him to take another tablet right after. His stomach was constantly in pain, probably because he hadn’t been eating much these days and he never felt so irritated.</p><p>His mood swings were intense. He would go from suicidal to homicidal in a matter of hours. Kurapika was more violent than usual, but also more depressed. Only one thing soothed him — and he needed more.</p><p>“Where do you get this?” he asked.</p><p>The associate looked at him, alarmed. Kurapika’s eyes were red where it was supposed to be white, his mouth dry. The man hesitated, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to oppose his boss. So he just complied.</p><p>(…)</p><p>The place was a red building, with red lights. It had no name or sign of any kind. The only people that went in were the ones who already knew what they would find.</p><p>The interior was also covered in red wallpaper. Lanterns hanged on the wall, giving the place a low, dim light. As soon as Kurapika entered it, he felt a difference in the air. Inside, it was dense, sweet like dark chocolate. A delicate mist was coming from behind a curtain on the back.</p><p>Kurapika approached the only counter he saw. Only one man was standing there, a piercing across his nose, tattoos showing on his bald head beneath his beanie, a long and sharp moustache.</p><p>“Do you have anything stronger?” Kurapika said, offering the amber container.</p><p>The man took the bottle, read its label and put it down.</p><p>“How much you got?”</p><p>Kurapika placed a stack of cash on the counter. His hands were sweating, his heart pounding, anxiety-filled.</p><p>“Come this way,” the man said, opening the curtain.</p><p>The sweet aroma of opium hit his nostrils and intoxicated his senses. He inhaled it, already feeling its effects even before his mouth touched the pipe, craving for the sensation in his lungs and brain. Weirdly, it was the same sensation he felt whenever he acquired one more pair of red eyes: fulfillment, pleasure. Bliss.</p><p>The curtains closed behind him. Smoke filled the room.</p><p>And it would take hours before he remembered to leave.</p>
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